Wanting and Needing
by Mrs Scofield
Summary: A year after the escape, Lincoln's been exonerated and Michael is free. But Sara hasn't seen Michael since he asked her to help him, what happens when Michael decides he still needs her?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sara sighed as she slowly pulled out her key and unlocked her apartment door. It was a dreary, cold day. She hated November. It wasn't fall anymore and winter hadn't quite begun…it was just cold and bare. It had been a long day. The endless needs of the patients at the hospital where Sara had surprisingly found work kept her very busy, and she was more than ready to get something eat then crash on her couch.

It had been almost a year since the escape. Since her overdose that horrible night. After she checked out of the hospital, she was pretty much able to continue her normal life, surprisingly enough. Her father helped her in the beginning, but only because it wouldn't look good for him to leave her in the state she was. Although she had willed herself not to pay too much attention to the news on the escapees, she did know that they had been captured. But, the conspiracy had been revealed thanks to Michael, and Lincoln was exonerated. Michael spent a few weeks in a different prison, but was soon released, probably because the government felt like they owed him something. Sara didn't know where any of them were now; she figured they had moved away from all the memories and events that happened here. Michael rarely entered her mind now, anyways. Occasionally, she would remember their little moments together and those damn eyes that made her melt. But she would quickly push it out of her head. It would never have worked anyways.

Sara began flipping through her mail, hoping to find something other than bills, when suddenly she felt like she was being watched. But she felt familiar eyes, eyes that she hadn't looked into since their owner walked out of her infirmary. She glanced around her apartment and saw nothing suspicious, so she turned back to her mail. Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching her from her back hallway. Sara spun around and choked down a scream, when she saw who it was.

She knew better than to be afraid, and at the moment, all she knew was anger.

"What the hell are you doing here?! How did you get in?!" Her voice hit levels she didn't know she was capable of, but then again, she wasn't much for yelling and had never really tried it out. He was calm at her reaction, which just infuriated her more.

"I broke out of a maximum-security prison, you think I can't pick a lock?"

"I don't know what you want now, but get out."

"Sara, I need to talk to you and I need to explain-"

"Michael, there is nothing to explain, I know what you did, I know why, and I don't want to talk to you or see you again."

"Sara, I never wanted to hurt you. Yes, you were part of my plan, but I didn't think you would affect me the way you did. I didn't think I would even have to ask you to do what you did. Sara, when I stepped inside those walls, I had everything figured out. I knew exactly what I was going to do, and even my back-up plans had back-ups. But I didn't think about one thing. And that one thing almost destroyed everything. I didn't think I would fall for you."

"Oh for God's sake, Michael. How long did it take you to come up with that little speech and memorize it? Don't try that with me."

Michael paused, then decided to ignore her comment.

"Listen, I live in an apartment about 10 miles from here. I couldn't take it anymore, Sara, being so close. I had to see you. You know you felt something when we were at Fox River. Don't deny it."

What? He'd only been 10 miles away? How did that happen? How could she miss something like that?

"I'm not denying anything, but I'm not agreeing with you either. What does it matter now anyways?"

"I've thought about you almost everyday since I left you in the infirmary. I thought that—that as long as you were okay, I could move on and leave you alone, because I knew you wouldn't want to see me. But it's been a year. _A whole year_, Sara, and you still haven't left my mind and even after all this time, I'm still… in love with you."

Sara had an overwhelming urge to laugh. This is insane. Michael says he's in love with her. You never know what to expect from him, do you? She let out a small laugh before her anger returned.

"Jesus, Michael, get out."

"I know I hurt you, Sara. But I don't want anything from you, but you. And I want you to trust me and believe me when I tell you this."

"You've got some fucking nerve talking to me about trust, Michael."

Even through Sara's hard temperament, Michael could see her anger was fading, her face revealing that it was replaced with sadness. He hated being the cause of that anger and sadness. He didn't say anything, his eyes staring into hers, before she seemed to gather herself together and begin speaking.

"You know, I finally let my guard down. I finally let someone in, and of all people, an inmate. Not to mention, an inmate that I knew almost nothing about. For some odd reason, I thought you were different from the rest of those violent rapists and murderers in that prison, and I didn't think you belonged there. You should be proud, Michael, you broke the wall around me that I had spent too long building. I don't even know how you did it; I didn't even realize it at the time. We weren't even what you'd call friends, but somehow, you got through. And I wasn't careful. And I ended up being used and betrayed, just like always. And now, I had finally started to repair what you broke, and I had moved on. And then you just walk back into my life, or more accurately, my apartment, claiming that you're in love with me. After everything, you had the nerve to do that. God, you didn't really expect me to believe that and just fall into your arms and forgive you for everything, did you? No, it doesn't work like that. So I think we're finished here. Please just leave, now."

Michael hesitated. He didn't want to leave her. But clearly his coming here was a bad idea, as it was seriously pissing her off, and getting him nowhere close to making the amends he wanted to. She wasn't supposed to respond like this. This isn't how he planned it. But then again, she causes problems in most of the things he plans. He pulled a paper out of his pocket, and walked toward her. Sara eyed him suspiciously and started to back away before he placed the paper on the table along with her keys.

"That has my phone number and my address. When you want your answers, I'm ready."

With that he began towards the door, breezing past her as she moved to let him through the door.

Half an hour later, Sara was still staring at the piece of paper with neat print on it, the same that had been on the cranes she had received so long ago. She couldn't call him and she certainly couldn't see him, because then she might find herself falling for him and his stupid eyes again. She couldn't afford to look like a fool again. He couldn't possibly love her, anyways. Despite these thoughts and what she told him, Sara _did_ want to fall into his arms. But she didn't need to. And when it comes to want and need, by Sara Tancredi's standards, need always wins out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It had been four weeks, two days, and about an hour since Michael left Sara's apartment after their first meeting since the escape. Not that he was counting. But she had yet to make any contact whatsoever. That was a bad sign.

Lincoln was sitting with his brother, trying (and not really succeeding) to comfort him.

"Well, maybe she just needs some time to really think about it. You did just sort of show up without warning and throw everything at her all at once. Give her some time."

"I've given her time," Michael said solemnly. "Four weeks. And she hasn't called or anything. Damn it! What am I supposed to do? "

Lincoln hadn't really paid all that much attention to what was really happening with Michael and Sara. He had listened to Michael talk about her all the time they were on the run, and honestly, he thought Michael just felt bad about asking her to help them. But seeing the look on his face right now, Lincoln realized maybe his little brother really was in love…

---

It was Christmas Eve. Still nothing from Sara. Michael had almost given up hope. He was going to head out to Lincoln and LJ's, which would hopefully get his mind off his troubles. Sara wouldn't call tonight anyways; she would probably be with friends or at her father's. She wasn't thinking about him. So he was going to do the same, and not think about her, hard as it was.

He pulled on his jacket and grabbed his keys when his cell phone rang. He sighed wearily, tired of getting excited over a call, only to be disappointed when the voice on the other end wasn't Sara's.

Michael glanced quickly at the caller ID, which read "caller unknown", before pressing the phone button.

"Hello?"

"Michael?"

Michael immediately perked up and dropped his keys on the counter.

"Sara?"

"Merry Christmas Eve!"

He could practically hear the alcohol dripping off her voice. A drunk Sara can't be a good thing. He almost chuckled to himself at how pathetic it was that Sara only called him when she was drunk.

"Um, merry Christmas Eve. Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah! I'm fine. I just thought you might want to come over for a drink!"

It sounded to Michael like she'd had enough drinks.

"Um, yeah, okay. I'll see you in a little while then?"

"Yeah! Bye, Michael!"

After he hung up, Michael quickly called Lincoln to tell him he wouldn't be making it.

"So she finally called you?"

"Yes, but I don't think she knows what she's doing, it sounded like she'd had more than a few drinks. I'm just going to check on her."

"Okay, man. Well, come by tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, okay. Bye."

Michael left the elevator and proceeded down the hallway to Sara's door, and knocked. He heard "just a minute!" followed by what sounded like someone stumbling, before the door opened, revealed smiling Sara in a green top and jeans holding a Budweiser.

"Michael! You made it! Come in, wine or beer?"

Michael stepped inside, and his eyes briefly scanned the empty bottles of beer collecting on the counter as well as a half-empty bottle of wine. She had a Christmas tree with lights in one corner of her living room next to the window, although no presents underneath. It's a Wonderful Life was playing on the TV.

"I'll just take that beer you've got in your hand so you don't have to get me one."

Sara frowned briefly and then rather reluctantly passed it to him before smiling giddily again.

"I was just watching this on TV, want to join me? It's my favorite part just after he finds out what the town would be like without him…"

Sara rambled on as they made their way over to the couch, where Sara flopped down beside Michael. Being close enough to her to be able to smell her shampoo (with some traces of beer) almost drove Michael crazy, but he wasn't about to do anything when she was in this condition.

After the credits started to roll, Michael watched Sara's eyes half close before she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Why did I get a tree this year?"

Her voice almost made him jump, he had gotten so used to the silence.

"Hm?"

"No one's going to see it but me, so why did I bother with putting it up?"

Michael wasn't really sure how to respond to this, so he just stayed quiet.

"I could've gone to my dad's for dinner tonight. But the only reason he invited me was because it would look bad for the governor to not have his daughter for Christmas Eve dinner, wouldn't it? And Katie even invited me to her house. But I think she was only doing it out of pity. Who wants a pathetic ex-junkie with no friends hanging over an otherwise happy family occasion?"

By now, tears were flowing down her face as she continued facing the TV with her head on Michael's shoulder.

"So what do I do? I invite an ex-con who ripped my heart out and comes back claiming he loves me to come see me on Christmas Eve. Isn't that pathetic?"

Now she was reduced to sobbing hysterically, and Michael pulled her into his lap, cradling her as her tears stained the collar of his shirt.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Sara."

---

After a while, Sara's breathing was slow and steady, indicated she'd fallen asleep at last.

Careful not to wake her, Michael slowly picked her up, with one arm supporting her back and one arm under her knees, and began walking back down the hall. She murmured into his neck and opened her eyes briefly before closing them again as Michael laid her down on her bed. He pulled the covers out from under her and covered her up as she turned over on her side away from him.

Michael looked at her one last time before walking out the bedroom door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chocolate eyes flickered open as sun poured through the blinds. They scanned the clock on the bedside table that read 8:27.

Sara groaned as she rolled over in her bed. She had somewhat reluctantly agreed to stop by her father's Christmas morning, despite the fact she knew he wasn't exactly inviting her with open arms. After all, he knew she didn't have anywhere to go during the Christmas season and hadn't bothered to even call her; it was his secretary that had invited her over on the governor's behalf. "What a life I have" she thought to herself. She had to be there before lunch for it to qualify as Christmas morning, and her head was splitting. Her jeans were bunched up uncomfortably around her knees and it was hot under her thick bed covers.

It wasn't until Sara was halfway down the hall towards the bathroom, in hopes that a shower would make her feel better, that the events of the night before vaguely came back to her.

Oh shit.

Sara halted and wondered if Michael had gone home. He wouldn't have stayed all night with it being Christmas and all, but she decided she should probably call and thank him for coming, because although she couldn't remember much, he probably hadn't had the best Christmas Eve with her so severely intoxicated.

And then she heard the sound of water flowing from the faucet in the kitchen.

Okay, well, a) some strange intruder has decided to delight in the workings of her plumbing system, b) some strange psychological intruder has decided to delight in the workings of her imagination, or c) Michael's still here.

Sara sincerely hoped the answer was b.

She took a few more steps and slowly rounded the corner to see a rather cheery-looking Michael filling up a coffee pot in her kitchen.

He looked up at her and gave her a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Sara."

I must look awful she thought to herself. She hadn't even brushed her hair.

She smiled weakly.

"So, um, how badly did I embarrass myself?"

Michael smiled before answering,

"Believe me, I've seen people act worse sober."

"Where did you sleep?"

"I slept on your couch, used your blanket, hope you don't mind."

Sara shook her head.

"Why did you stay with me? Why did you actually come over on Christmas eve anyways?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, why the interrogation?"

That silenced Sara for a moment. Michael handed her a cup of coffee, and then poured himself one. He watched her silently as she took a sip. He decided not to bring up her little crying episode that, despite all his control, scared the hell out of him. Either she didn't remember, or she did and didn't want to talk about it. Not that it mattered, but it was the first time he'd really seen her act like she wasn't completely in control of her emotions. Sara always struck him as the type of person that was capable of controlling all visible emotion and thought, but underneath was a collection of unseen feelings ready to burst. Maybe the reason he recognized this in Sara was because he knew this trait was something in him as well.

During all this thought, Michael hadn't noticed that Sara was staring intently right back at him, as he had been staring at her. Once she realized he had come out of his weird little daze and that she'd been caught looking, she blushed and set her coffee cup down.

"Well, um, I told my father I would meet him today, so…"

Michael nodded his head. He took a few steps to collect his jacket and turned to her.

"Michael, really, I don't know how to thank you, I'm sort of embarrassed about this whole thing, and I hope I didn't ruin all your plans for Christmas, I'm sure this is the last thing you wanted to be doing this morning—"

"It's fine, you know you can call me whenever you need something."

"Yeah," she breathed, "okay."

Michael gave her a final nod goodbye and walked through her living room and out the door.

Sara breathed a heavy sigh of relief she didn't know she was holding in as she turned towards the bathroom.

She stepped into the shower and let the cold water wash over her until it became so cold it made her head hurt. She switched the temperature to hot and ran her fingers through her hair.

Michael had certainly proved himself to be a gentleman. Not that she ever thought otherwise. But, she had been severely drunk and he hadn't done one thing to her, which was more than she could say for most men she knew. He just seemed so damn natural in her apartment, in her kitchen, making a pot of coffee in the morning. He was making it "very" difficult for her to keep to her whole wanting and needing theory. But she would be out of here in a week, so she was sure that once Michael was more than, how many miles did he say? 10? God, that seemed so close. Well, she was sure once Michael was more than 10 miles away, she would be able to move on with her life and focus on her new job at the clinic, and maybe, if she had any luck left, she wouldn't fall in love with a patient this time.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sara sat on the couch uninterestedly flipping through a magazine. Her visit to the governor's had gone about as well as could be expected; there was polite, formal conversation about the weather and her father's remodeled kitchen, and Sara tried to leave as soon as she could. There was only so much she could take. To be completely honest, she really did want to fix things with her father, but he was just so damn "difficult."

Or maybe she was just so damn difficult.

A growling stomach prompted Sara to get off the couch. As she headed towards the kitchen, she noticed a cell phone on her table that wasn't hers. The only person that had been in her house lately (that she knew of) had been Michael. He must have left it when he came last night. Well, she wasn't about to just keep it, so there were two options. She could call him and ask him to come pick it up, or she just give it to him herself, because after all, she still had his address. After some hesitation, Sara decided to just drop it off herself.

---

A knock on the door brought Michael out of his nap on the couch. Christmas at Lincoln and LJ's was pretty exhausting, especially considering he didn't sleep overly well last night. He got up and walked to the door, and paused slightly when he saw who it was through the peephole. Sara was looking down at her shoes and when he opened the door, she looked up and smiled rather uncomfortably.

"Hi, Sara. Uh, come in."

She stepped through the door and stood until he turned around. She shuffled her feet awkwardly before reaching her hand into her purse.

"Michael, um, you left this at my house, I thought I'd bring it by…"

Michael took the cell phone out of her hand.

"Thank you, I was wondering where I put that."

"Yeah, um, I also wanted to thank you again for staying with me last night, and I wanted to say goodbye."

"Goodbye? You're leaving?"

"I just thought I needed to tell you, and this would be my only chance," Sara half-whispered. "I need to get away from all of…this, you know, as long as it's been since the escape and everything, I'm still sort of feeling the effects, and I got a new job at a clinic in Springfield, so I just really want to…start over."

Michael's facial expression remained unchanged, but unknown to Sara, he felt like his insides were starting to dissolve. She wasn't just getting away, she was running away from "him". And he knew it.

"You don't have to leave to start over, Sara. It's been a year already, and you seem to be doing fine."

Sara looked down and didn't respond for a moment.

"Michael, I think I should go, I'm leaving in just a few days, so I need to get home—"

"Sara," Michael cut her off quickly. "When I was in your apartment, I didn't notice any boxes or missing furniture, or anything at all that suggested you were moving, why all of the sudden? Why now?"

"It's not all of the sudden, Michael. I've been thinking about this for a while. I told you already that I even found new work. It just sort of…I don't know…it took seeing you again to confirm this is what I should do. Things aren't going well with my father as you can probably guess and they know who I am at the hospital and they try their best not to let me near any patients, for fear that I might leave the door unlocked and they'll escape."

She paused and Michael swore he saw a hint of a smirk on her lips.

She continued, "And Michael, when you are a part of my life… it seems like a lot of, um…"

Sara closed her eyes and searched for the right words. She opened them again and looked into Michael's. The intensity of his gaze, like many times before, left her struggling with a task as simple as constructing a sentence.

"It seems like a lot of…bad…things happen, for lack of a better word, but, bad things that certainly could have been avoidable from the start. So I think this is better for both us."

She looked at him, almost daring him to challenge her. Michael's brain was in overdrive trying to think of what he could possibly say that would make her stay. Yeah right.

After a 2-minute staring contest and no response from Michael, Sara finally looked down and then slowly turned back to the door, as she had not moved since she stepped inside. With a final "goodbye", she walked out.

Michael spent a good few minutes staring at the door, and then walked back to his couch and sat down, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands under his chin. Sara, "his" Sara, was leaving the city, and he didn't even get to say a proper goodbye. But it was his fault for not acting. The best thing that ever happened to him just walked out his door. And he let her.

He sat and pondered for a while, some plan in the works. He wasn't about to go get a new tattoo, but if there were a way to make this work, he would find it. He loved Sara, no doubt about it, and he wasn't about to just sit around and let her walk out of his life, despite the fact that he was sitting around, and he had already let her walk out. He had "a few days" (the only bit of information Sara had given him) to come up with something, anything that would give him a chance.


	5. Chapter 5

**Only one more chapter to go!**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 5

With the last of her furniture cleared out, and her entire life packed up and on its way to Springfield, Sara took one last look at her apartment. No wonder she had wanted this particular apartment so bad, it seemed huge without her usual clutter. She was certainly going to miss Chicago. But she told herself not to regret her decision, because like she told Michael, it was for the better. If there was one thing Sara had learned about life, it was that things could change very suddenly and quickly. Of course, most of those times it hadn't been her choice. But this time tomorrow, she would be settling down into an almost completely new life, which was a change _she_ had chosen.

---

Later that evening, Sara pulled her car into parking lot of the apartment building.

After seeing that her furniture and boxes had been placed inside, and after sending the movers off (yes, they tried to get a date), Sara was pleased to see that there was a bar almost right across the street. She shouldn't have been pleased, she knew she had been drinking too much lately, and she definitely crossed the line on Christmas Eve. The last thing she wanted was to go back to being alcohol dependant, which led to being morphine dependant. That was another reason why it was good to leave Michael. He made her want to drink. Argh, there she goes thinking about Michael again.

Well, Sara eventually decided _not_ to go, as she really needed to unpack and move her stuff to where she liked, plus she was extremely hungry.

Sara hooked up the TV and got the cable going, when her cell started ringing. Her heart skipped a beat, and she thought it might be Michael. Actually, she "hoped" it would be Michael. But she wasn't about to admit that, not even to herself. After stumbling over several boxes and their contents strewn about, she found her purse and rummaged through various items until she retrieved her phone.

"Hello?"

"Sara."

"Katie! How are you?" Sara was relieved to hear a friend's voice.

"I'm fine. So, how's the new apartment? Is it as nice as you made it out to be?"

"Yeah, I guess, smaller, but cozy. How are things in Chicago?"

"Pretty good. Well, have you met any new guys?"

Sara sighed. This conversation could not be going anywhere good.

"Yeah, in the whole 2 hours I've been here. Is that all your interested in? My love life?"

Katie chuckled.

"Well, it's a good topic, at least for me. How "is" your love life, speaking of which?"

"Non-existent."

"Now, Sara, don't lie to me. I know about your friend Scofield and your little get-together on Christmas Eve after you wouldn't come to my house. Now I see what it's all about, rejecting me for a guy."

"What?! How do you know about that?" Michael was not what Sara wanted to be talking about right now. So much for forgetting about him.

"I know about it because Scofield told me himself."

"He told you? Since when are you two best friends?"

"Since he asked me for your new address."

If she didn't know Katie better, Sara would think this was some sort of sick joke. But unfortunately, Katie wouldn't do something like that, especially knowing Sara's background with Michael. He was a very sensitive subject for her, and Katie knew it.

"Oh my god. You gave it to him?"

"Of course I did."

"Katie! I can't have him knowing where I live now; the point of this move was to get away from all the memories and the conspiracy stuff. And I told him I didn't want to see him anymore--"

"Sara, everyone, including Scofield, knows that you're trying to get away from him. It's been a year since the escape stuff and you just now decided to move? And about him not seeing you, well, I don't think he really cares. He's in love with you, and from what I can tell the guy goes to great lengths for people he loves. He'd break you out of prison if you needed it, which is a very good characteristic in a man."

"That's not funny. You don't think he's really going to come here, do you?"

"Yeah, he will. I'm pretty impressed with him, he even came back to Fox River, the first time since the breakout, I guess, and he did it just to get your address from he. He's definitely got guts."

"Did he tell you when he was coming?"

"I guess he wants to be there for New Year's Eve tomorrow. And don't pretend like you're not just screaming with joy inside about him coming after you. It's all very romantic isn't it? You're very lucky you get to be with him."

"I told you once that nothing would ever happen between me and an inmate."

"Oh come on, Sara, that's the most ridiculous excuse I think I've ever heard. Don't be stupid. He's not an inmate anymore, and hasn't been for quite some time."

"Technicality."

"Whatever. But don't think I don't know you're very happy about this, and I know you'd be mad if I hadn't given him your address, even if you wouldn't confess it to me. Well, I have to go, so you can go get ready for him, okay? I'll talk to you later, Sara, take care."

And she hung up.

Sara put the phone down and sighed, running a hand through her hair. This was too much to absorb all at once. Michael could be at her door any second, and that scared the hell out of her. Katie had been right to a certain degree, mostly about how she was screaming inside, though it wasn't exactly out of joy. She still didn't feel ready to deal with Michael again, or ready to forgive him. She had secretly forgiven him for using her, making her think he cared for her, putting her in the dangerous conditions he did and such, yes, she'd forgiven him for that a long time ago. But what Sara really wasn't ready to let go was the fact that he barged back into her life and thought he could fool her again.

And it was during these thoughts that she heard a knock on her door.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god_ was the only phrase, among a stream of curses, that went speeding through Sara's mind at the sound. She debated for several seconds what to do. The obvious thing, of course, would be to answer the door. It might not even be him. That idea was not source of comfort, though, who else could possibly be coming to see her at this time of night? The knocking continued, a little louder, after a pause. The second choice was to just not answer, and pretend she wasn't there. Even though her lights were on, as well as the TV. Split-second, impulsive decisions were her specialty, so Sara forgot all other thoughts and quickly made her way to the door and opened it.

"Hello, Sara."

"Michael."

What struck Michael most was that she didn't seem surprised by him showing up at her door late at night, unexpected, not to mention in a different city. Katie, of course, was the reason for that. God, women have to tell each other _everything,_ don't they? But even though there was no surprise evident on Sara's face, he could tell her guard was up, and questions of what he wanted with her now were spoken clearly through her expression.

"Sara…I, um…I couldn't just let you go like that." Why not just get straight to the point?

"Michael," she began, uncertainty leaking through her voice, "Michael, I told you I can't do this."

"You of all people should know that I'm not one to give up easily. I can't let you go after all we've been through."

"You shouldn't feel obligated to be with me just because we've been through a lot, just because you feel guilty for what you did."

That hurt Michael worse than probably anything Sara had said to him before. That was the last thing he wanted her to think.

"It's not like that. You know it's not."

"Do I? Well tell me this, how do I know if anything you tell me is real? Because as far as I know, everything you've ever told me is a fucking lie."

"I told you the first time I showed up at your apartment in Chicago that I never wanted to involve you in that, and what happened with you and me wasn't a lie. I need you to believe that."

"Coming here was a waste of your time, Michael."

"Tell me you don't love me and I'll leave."

Oh no. He was _not_ about to pull that one. Sara had heard that line _way_ too many times in all those chick flicks she rented when she felt sorry for herself. She stared at Michael without responding. Lying could definitely be an option now. All she has to do is say she doesn't love him, and he's gone, no more Michael-generated misery. Even though chances are, there would be even more misery if he was gone. And between the two of them, there had been too many lies, and Sara didn't quite have the heart to lie to him or herself at this point. So, there has to be some other way to get out of this.

"I don't want to have this conversation practically in the hallway. You might as well come in." Ah yes, that was smooth, Sara.

Michael nodded before following her through the door, suppressing a satisfied smile at knowing that Sara was trying to avoid telling him anything, therefore, she wasn't going to tell him she _didn't_ love him. He glanced around her apartment; it was smaller than her old one. The many boxes stacked everywhere revealed that she hadn't been kidding about being a packrat. Michael heard Sara clearing her throat, and turned to meet her eyes.

Sara seemed to find her feet very interesting, but she was first to break the uncomfortable silence.

"So, you being the one with a plan all the time, what exactly were you going to do if I shut the door in your face and refused to speak to you?"

"Well, I was hoping you would be the gracious person I know you to be, and that you wouldn't do such a thing."

Sara offered a small smile, before she glanced at the microwave clock and her brow furrowed.

"Um, it's almost midnight. You didn't plan on going back tonight, did you? Did you plan somewhere to stay?"

Well, in all honesty he hoped he'd be staying in her bed that night, but he knew that was out of the question before he even got on the train to come here.

"I'm not sure when the next train leaves to Chicago, and I figured Springfield would have at least one hotel. I guess that's my cue to leave?"

Oh, so _now_ he's going to leave.

"Don't be ridiculous, Michael, I'm not about to send you to a hotel. I don't mind if you stay."

"If you're sure that's okay. I'll just take the couch."

"Yeah." Sara wasn't about to argue, it had been a long day and all she wanted was to fall into her bed, and get a break from life, forget about Michael, and doubts about her new job. She knew she was getting herself into trouble the minute the words had left her mouth about him staying, though. This was doing no good in helping her move on.

She looked through several boxes before finding one containing sheets and blankets.

As they were preparing to get some sleep, Michael wished her a final goodnight.

"Thanks a lot for this, I know it's not easy."

Sara just gave that small smile and said goodnight.

---

As tired as she was, about an hour later Sara still hadn't fallen asleep. Her first day on the job and she was going to be dead tired. That was sure to make a good impression. It was too hard knowing Michael was just on the other side of a wall, sleeping on her couch. Though this wasn't the first time. But that night, she hadn't known he was there she was so wasted; she had no trouble sleeping then. Right now, she wanted him gone, but at the same time, she never wanted him more.


	6. Chapter 6

Well here's the end. I hope it's not terribly disappointing 

Chapter 6 

The shrill beeping of her alarm clock brought Sara out of her dreams. And they did involve tattoos and shaved heads. She rolled over and lazily hit the off button. The night had been too short for her, and the mere thought of starting a new job, trying to make a good impression, and dealing with the man on her couch was overwhelming.

Sara wondered if Michael was still asleep. If he was, she had no idea how she could possibly get ready without waking him. Then, as if on cue, she heard Michael's voice, faint and unclear, through the wall that separated them. "He must be on the phone." She sat up slowly and ran a hand through her hair. With sleep still nagging at her body, she got up and walked toward the bathroom that joined her room, hoping to put off leaving the dark quiet of her bedroom to be taken back into the world that was right outside her closed door.

Once in the shower, Sara let the water scorch her skin, turning it bright pink, trying to relieve the ache of lack of sleep from her bones. She took her time in washing her hair, her body, until eventually she ran out of things to keep her from finally getting out. She was greeted with cold air against the water droplets on her skin as she slid the frosted door open and stepped out. She quickly dried off and got dressed, dreading the thought of venturing out into the day.

---

Michael was seated on the couch, listening to his boss rant about how much he needed to finish this project, and needed to sign those papers, and how he shouldn't be taking a vacation; even though he had plenty of days saved up. Just as Michael apologized for the last time and hung up his cell phone, the bedroom door opened revealing a stressed-looking Sara, dressed in black pants and a button up shirt. Michael stood up.

"Morning, Sara."

Sara smiled shyly at him. "Hi."

"You're going to work today?"

"Yeah, it's my first day."

"Oh."

Sara looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the sleeves of her shirt.

"So, uh, I say this at the risk of sounding rude, but if you aren't planning on going back home, what exactly are you going to do all day?"

"Well…I've never been to Springfield before, maybe I'll go sightseeing?" "Ugh, what a weak answer." Despite all of Michael's preparation, he hadn't thought of the most obvious thing—he'd been stupid to think Sara would just welcome him with open arms. He should have learned that the first time.

"Sightseeing? By yourself?"

Michael shrugged. "Maybe since it's New Year's Eve they'll have something going on. I checked the train schedule this morning, the next train to Chicago doesn't leave until 6:30 tonight."

Sara stared at him, trying to fathom what could possibly going through this man's head at the moment. Surely he came here with a better idea than this. He's supposed to be a freaking genius.

"Sara, I didn't come all the way here just to sleep on your couch and get in your way. I didn't even come with any particular idea as to what I was going to do once I arrived at your door. That's unusual for me. I just want you to give me…us, a chance. I, god…do you know what it's like to be in love, Sara?"

She stared at the floor, avoiding his eyes. It was too early in the morning to be having this type of conversation. She knew what it was like to be in love. But she didn't answer.

"It's absolutely horrible. You always hear about how wonderful it is when you fall in love, and how if you love at least one other person like that, your life will be complete. At least, that's what I've heard. Well, my life isn't complete, and even though I'm free, my brother is alive and free, and you're safe, I am absolutely miserable without you."

Sara continued staring at the floor, until she finally lifted her head to meet his hopeful eyes.

"Michael, I, um, I'm late."

And then she walked passed him, picked up her bag, and walked out the door. She seemed to be doing that a lot to him lately.

Michael sighed and sat down on the couch, his head in his hands.

---

By the time Sara got home at 10:30 that night, she was on her last nerve. Michael's words from the morning had plagued her all day, and even though her boss seemed satisfied with her at the clinic, her coworkers were less than welcoming. Everyone took advantage of the fact that she was new and desperate to make an impression, so she got stuck staying late finishing up paper work and doing other various tasks doctors aren't usually required to do. It had been an awful first day, and she was dead tired. What a grand way to start the New Year. And now, as she turned the key to her apartment door, she hoped Michael had decided to take the train home, because she certainly didn't have the energy to think about him.

Sara took a breath, and opened the door to see Michael standing over the stove, studying the contents of the pan heating on the top. He looked up when he heard her come in, and smiled at her.

"Happy New Year, Sara."

"Happy New Year." Sara grumbled as she shed her jacket and bag. Despite all the boxes still unpacked and all the emptiness, her apartment was warm and the lights were on, and the smell from whatever was on the stove reminded her how hungry she was. Now she was almost thankful Michael hadn't left, it was nice to have someone to come home to. It was something Sara could definitely get used to.

"I'm attempting spaghetti, and I think the sauce is done if you want some."

"Yeah, okay."

During dinner, Michael took a few shots at starting a conversation, about anything really, but it was pretty clear by the time they were finished Sara was in no mood to chat.

She collected their plates and glasses, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. She turned around to find Michael standing behind her, watching.

"You know it's 11:00. Another hour and we'll be starting a whole new year."

Sara scoffed quietly. "Yeah, I'm starting this year off fucking perfectly."

"Ah, come on. It can't be that bad."

Sara shot him a "how much you wanna bet?" look.

"They hate me at work. I thought this was my chance to start over, but for some unknown reason, they treat me like I don't deserve to breathe the same air they do. And my father? I haven't talked to him since Christmas. He thinks I'm running away from him. And then there's you. I am so unbelievably tired of this entire…thing…with you! I'm tired of thinking about you, I'm tired of losing sleep because of you, I'm tired of worrying about you, I'm tired of trying to hate you, and I'm tired of trying to pretend that I'm not in love with you!"

It took Michael maybe three and a half seconds to comprehend what she said, decide what he was going to do, and take a few steps to grab her in his arms. His lips collided with hers in a searing and passionate frenzy, their tongues blending in a way they couldn't tell which belonged to them. And she didn't pull away. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Michael's waist, desperately clinging to him, while his hands were holding her face to his, occasionally moving to run through that hair he had wanted to touch for so long.

Sara backed into the counter where Michael lifted her up so she was sitting with her legs on either side of him, never breaking the kiss. Eventually the need for oxygen forced their lips apart, but Michael continued planting kisses all the way down her neck and back up to her ear, breathing in the scent of Sara, in all it's vanilla sugar splendor. Sara buried her head in Michael's neck, her arms thrown over his shoulders, around his neck. His hands slowly worked their way from her hips to underneath her shirt, rubbing the soft skin of her back, tracing a line up her spine. With her breathing returning to normal, the reality of what was happening caught up with her. But she didn't care any more. This is what she wanted, and there was absolutely no point in letting it go this time. This is what she had wanted since she met Michael, to be in his arms, free of prison bars, the watchful eyes of a guard, a certain wife, to be able to touch him without the barrier of a latex glove, without the unspoken barrier of being his doctor and nothing more. No more denial, no more "it's for the better", no more anything, but Michael.

"Michael."

Michael pulled back to look at her, his hands still resting on the warmth of her back.

"It's almost midnight."

---

11:59

1 minute to go. They rested on the couch, Sara's back to Michael's chest, his arm over her and their hands entwined together, watching Dick Clark begin the countdown.

"I'm glad you came, Michael."

He placed a soft kiss into her hair.

"I love you."

She turned to look at him, with a small smile on her lips.

"I love you, too."

The ball began its descent in Times Square.

Michael gently kissed Sara's lips, this one less frantic and needy than the last one, while Sara responded and turned her body into his, placing a hand on the back of his shorn head. The clock hit 12:00.

It was going to be a good year.

The End 


End file.
